


Bottom of the Ninth

by dettiot



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - Sports, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dettiot/pseuds/dettiot
Summary: To celebrate baseball's Opening Day, I asked for baseball-related prompts.  And I got some great ones, thus this collection of ficlets that all feature baseball in some way.  You don't have to like baseball to enjoy these, I think--but liking baseball just makes them better.  :-)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Felicity finally meeting the star player aka Oliver on her friends' baseball team - the one she she finds does those attractive af pants better than anyone else out there.

“I still don’t understand why I had to come to the game.  Everyone knows that Oliver Queen and John Diggle are the star players,” Felicity said, squinting at the bright sunshine and then rummaging in her large pink tote bag for her prescription sunglasses.  “No offense to Barry and Tommy, of course.”

“Trust us, you’ll want to see a game,” Caitlin Snow said.  

In unison, Lyla Michaels and the Lance sisters, Laurel and Sara, nodded their heads.  

“Okay …” Felicity said, settling the sunglasses on her nose and following the other girls out to the field.  

She had transferred to Star City Senior High three months ago, a skinny sophomore who was more comfortable with computers than with other people.  To Felicity’s utter surprise, she had quickly found a great group of friends, starting with Caitlin and Sara, who were in a few of her classes.  And through them, she had gotten to know Lyla and Laurel, who were both seniors.

Having friends was great … most of the time.  But getting dragged to a baseball game, with end-of-semester exams looming, wasn’t one of those times.  Yet all the girls had been so insistent on her coming, Felicity had been worried what would happen if she didn’t go along.

But if she did go, she risked embarrassing herself, yet again, in front of Oliver Queen.  Because whenever she was around him, she seemed to end up tongue-tied and fire-engine red.  Or, even worse, babbling like an idiot.  Which was not fair–she had a genius-level IQ!

For some reason, Sara seemed to think Felicity had a chance with Oliver and kept pushing her and Oliver together.  Since Sara’s sister was dating Oliver’s best friend, that meant there was plenty of chances for Sara to push Felicity towards Oliver.

“It’s gonna be a lot of fun,” Sara said, linking arms with Felicity.  In her red tank top and black jeans, her hair in a high ponytail and her sunglasses on, Sara was effortless cool.  Meanwhile, Felicity felt like a little girl in her full skirt and t-shirt.

“If you say so,” Felicity said, her eyes widening as they approached the field.  “Wow.”

The baseball complex was much more elaborate than Felicity had expected for a high school field.  More than that, though, after growing up in Las Vegas, she was still a little bit breathless when she saw so much green grass.  

The five girls chatted as they found seats in the bleachers and waited for the start of the game.  Other than Sara, Felicity was the only one who wasn’t dating a baseball player.  Which at least meant she wasn’t the … eleventh wheel?

“And now, taking the field, the two-time reigning state champions, the Star City Stallions!”

The crowd went wild as the home team took the field.  Felicity could see the speedy Barry take up his position at shortstop, and Tommy heading out to right field.  John Diggle, Lyla’s boyfriend, was warming up on the mound.  And even though she told herself she wasn’t looking for Oliver, she scanned the field for him.  

“Where’s Oliver?”  The words slipped out before she could hold them back, making her blush a little.

“Behind home plate,” Laurel said, chewing on a piece of gum.  

“Behind … ?  Ohhhhhh.”  

All the girls sitting beside Felicity exchanged looks and grins that were verging on smirks.  Felicity could see that from the corner of her eye.  But all her attention was focused on home plate.  

Because Oliver Queen, in full catcher’s gear, was crouching behind home plate, his already-snug-fitting baseball pants stretched across his very, very, _very_ nice ass.  

“Oh my God.  I’d pray to that if I wasn’t Jewish,” Felicity breathed out before her cheeks lighted on fire.  

“What about being Jewish would preclude you from praying to Oliver’s ass?” Lyla asked with a grin.  

“First Commandment.  You shall have no other God before me,” Caitlin said.  

Sara snorted.  “Why are we talking about commandments with all the lusting we’re doing?”

Dimly, Felicity heard the other girls debating the question, but she was not paying attention.  Which was probably violating some code of friendship, but … now she understood why they wanted her to come to this game.  Now she knew that whatever she was feeling for Oliver Queen wasn’t just some school girl crush.  No, watching him crouch and kneel in the dirt … she felt like a woman for the very first time.  

A sharp pain in her side brought her back to Earth.  “Ouch!” she said, rubbing her side as she turned to look at Sara.  “What was that for?”

“Go tell Oliver good luck.”  

She blinked.  “Excuse me?”

Sara gestured to their now-empty bench.  “It’s tradition.  Each ball player needs the girl they like to tell them good luck before the game.  That’s where Lyla, Laurel and Caitlin are.” 

Felicity looked around and saw a clump of players and girls along the first-base line.  Then she looked back at Sara and bit her lower lip.  

As much as she would like to go wish Oliver good luck on the game … it wouldn’t count.  Not when she wasn’t the girl he liked.  

“Trust me, Felicity,” Sara said softly.  “He wants _you_ to be the one to cheer him on.”

For a long moment, Felicity looked at the girl who had become her best friend.  Sara was outgoing, wild, always up for a good time.  But she was also incredibly loyal and read people better than anyone Felicity had ever met.  

If Sara said that Oliver liked Felicity … she couldn’t help believing her.  

Swallowing, Felicity glanced down at the field and saw Oliver, still behind home plate, glancing towards the first-base line.  And there was something about his body language that made him look … wistful.  Sad.  A little lonely.

“Okay,” she said, standing up quickly.  She wavered a little and took a deep breath, before climbing over the bleacher risers towards the walkway that would take her along the first-base line.  

She edged down the line, not getting too close to the other couples.  She took another deep breath, then looked over towards Oliver.  He wasn’t looking in her direction anymore, which meant she would have to get his attention somehow.  

Licking her lips, Felicity called out, “Number Twelve!”

Oliver’s head whipped around, and even behind his mask and from this distance, she could tell his eyes widened in surprise.  Then, he gracefully rose from his crouch and jogged over towards the line, pushing his mask up to reveal those gorgeous blue eyes, a slightly-stubbled jaw, and a wide, beaming smile.  

“Hey,” he said, not sounding even a little out of breath as he approached her.  

“Hi,” she replied shyly, gazing at him.  “I’ve never been to a game before, so I … I didn’t know about this tradition.”  

He leaned against the railing that separated the bleachers from the field.  “It’s a good tradition.  Especially if you have a girl.”  

“I … I’m surprised you don’t,” she said, feeling a rush of pleasure at the words coming out flirty instead of shy and vulnerable.  

“Well, you need the right girl.  Else she’ll wish you good luck and you’ll go 0 for 4 with an error,” Oliver said, looking right at her with a small smile.

Felicity found herself smiling back.  “Maybe I shouldn’t wish you any kind of luck.  Just to be safe.”  

His smile widened and his hand reached out to gently hold her elbow.  “I don’t play safe.”  

Oliver leaned up and just like she knew what she was doing, Felicity leaned down.  And when their lips met, Felicity found herself thinking that Oliver’s way was the best way.  

And from now on, she sure wasn’t going to play it safe.  

End.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: College AU. Oliver is on the baseball team and needs Felicity to tutor him to stay on the team.

Only an ungrateful douchebag would throw his equipment around.  But after that meeting with his coach, Oliver Queen was ready to start throwing bats.

Why did it matter if he was flunking his computer science class?  He didn’t even know why he had registered for it in the first place.  He was a ballplayer and wouldn’t ever need computers to do his job.  Because when he got to the majors, there would be interns to do all the computery stuff for him.  

But if he didn’t pass his class with at least a C, he would be benched.  And with the draft coming up soon, he needed all the playing time he could get.  

So … he would meet this tutor that the coach had set up for him, and he’d find some way to get the damn C, and then he was gonna get drafted and go pro and be done with college.  A year was more than enough.

His hair still wet from his post-practice shower, wearing jeans and one of his jerseys, Oliver walked into the library with his backpack.  His tutor was going to meet him here–some nerd named Felicity.  Man, it was like she was destined to be a nerd with a name like that.  

“Oliver Queen?”

The voice was soft and feminine, making Oliver’s mouth quirk up.  Maybe he had gotten lucky?

“That’s what the name on my jersey says,” he began, turning to face his tutor.  Only he had to immediately look lower by about six inches, since Felicity barely came up to his shoulder.  And his hopes were quickly dashed when he took her in.  A sweater vest?  Glasses?  Couldn’t Coach have gotten him a girl who was actually pretty?  Although maybe he was worried about Oliver being distracted–or seducing his tutor.  

Well, no danger of that here.  On either score.  

She held her hand out to him.  “Felicity Smoak, your comp sci tutor.  Do you have a computer with you?”

“No …” he said slowly.

“How did you expect to work on assignments for a computer science class without a computer?” Felicity asked, a disapproving note in her voice.  

He shrugged and she rolled her eyes.  “Great.  I guess we’re going to the computer lab.  Follow me–I’m sure with all the work you’ve done taking care of your bat, you’ve never even been inside the library.”

Was she … ?  Oliver shook his head and stared after the sarcastic little blonde.  He hadn’t expected her to come out with an innuendo like that–especially not one that doubled as an insult.  With his long legs, he easily caught up with her.  

“So what’s your deal?”

She eyed him without really looking at him.  “My deal?  I have to tutor guys like you in order to afford eating and having a roof over my head.  When it’s someone who’s really struggling, I actually enjoy tutoring.  Getting to help someone improve, seeing them get more confident about the material.  But someone who just doesn’t care?  Excuse me for not thinking that’s cool.”

“It’s not like that …” he said, not even sure why he was protesting.  

“So what is it like?”

Oliver looked down at the tiny annoying thing, how her hands were on her hips and her chin was jutting out.  This Felicity wasn’t like anyone he had ever met before.

“I want to go pro.  So I need to play.  And to play, I need to pass this comp sci class.  So … give me a hand and help me pass the damn class, and then I’ll be out of your hair and you’ll never have to deal with me again,” Oliver said.

Her lips pouted a little, her face thoughtful.  Oliver had a fleeting through that her lips looked very kissable, but he shook it off as he waited for her answer.  

“Okay, I guess,” she said grudgingly.  “But next time, you need to bring a computer, okay?  I mean, would you show up to a game without your glove?  It’s the same thing.”

“That makes sense,” he admitted.  “Okay, I’ll bring it.  But for now, can we get started?  I’m really behind.”  

Something about him saying he needed her help made her face soften.  “Yeah, all right.  Let’s get to the lab so I can see how to help.”

Nodding, Oliver followed her the rest of the way, adjusting his backpack.

XXX

When he left the lecture hall on the day of the final, Oliver looked around the quad, searching for the only person he wanted to see right now.  

A slow smile grew when he spotted Felicity, tapping away at a tablet and squinting.  With how smart she was, she had finished their comp sci final well before him, but he had known she would wait for him.  The sunshine fell over her, bringing out her hair and making her the brightest thing he had ever seen.  

Over the course of the semester, Oliver had gotten to see beyond her tart tongue and feisty attitude, to the brilliant, tender, caring girl underneath.  The girl who had gotten hurt and had developed a mask to protect herself.  

The girl who had totally changed his own attitude and approach.  The girl who had opened his eyes to so many things.  The girl he had fallen for.  

“Felicity!” he called out, hurrying towards her.

She looked up and a huge smile appeared on her face.  “Oliver!” she said, waving to him.  “How did it go?” she asked as he approached.  

Instead of answering her, Oliver wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet in an all-encompassing, swing-in-a-circle hug, just like in a movie.

“Pass or fail, it doesn’t matter,” he said softly into her ear.  “Because meeting you is the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Oliver,” she said, pushing at him.  He stopped moving and loosened his grip enough for her to be able to look at him.  “I know you passed, with how hard you worked.  And now, you’ll be able to play and make a good impression on the scouts and get drafted number one.”  

Hesitantly, he reached out and stroked her cheek.  “I’m not going to be the number one pick.”  

Slowly, she licked her lips.  “You are to me.”

“Felicity,” he breathed out, just before he kissed her.  

It turned out that Felicity was right on both counts.  He did pass and he did get drafted number one.  He missed what would have been his third major league game in order to see Felicity graduate.  And then, six years later, he missed his nine hundredth game in order to graduate himself.

And cheering as loud as she did whenever she watched him play was Felicity.  His wife.

End.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Olicity "Pitch" AU. Oliver is a baseball star who thinks too much of himself and Felicity is the agent who has to rein him in.

Felicity’s heels clicked against the painted concrete floors of the warren of rooms and hallways underneath Petco Park.  But she didn’t notice that, over the video she was streaming on her tablet and the sound of her cell phone calling another phone.  

When she got voicemail, she bit back a curse.  “Okay, if that’s how you want to play this, Oliver, then I’m gonna play,” she spit out into the phone.  “See you in five.”  

She ended the call and shoved her phone into the pocket of her purse, while she hit replay on the video that showed her top player engaging in a game of strip baseball with three other players and several models.  

“Damn it, Oliver,” she muttered.  

Yeah, the whole ‘strip baseball’ element wasn’t great.  Not when she had been trying to make Oliver’s public image match reality and his private image.  When he had come up, he had been a playboy and a douchebag.  But after sixteen years in the majors, it was well past time for Oliver Queen to be seen by his fans and the general public as who he really was: a man who had put his body through incredible abuse, all in the pursuit of a championship.  A pursuit that his team kept falling short in, a pursuit that Felicity knew Oliver wanted to win more than anything.  

Most of the time, Oliver wasn’t what she had expected before she had met him.  When they had started working together at the start of the season, Oliver had wanted help negotiating his final contract and knew he needed to improve his image to get what he wanted.  Felicity, for her part, had been intrigued.  The Oliver Queen she met was thoughtful, serious, tactical.  Not the drunk, flirtatious asshole she had heard he was.  

And she had liked the man she met.  The man she saw interacting with fans, with his teammates.  Liked him enough to violate the boundaries she had set for herself when she started in this business.  

Which was the last thing she should be thinking about right now, Felicity told herself.  No, she had to be focused on this problem.  Figuring out why Oliver had gone off the rails like this.  Because this stunt was so out of left field, Felicity acknowledged, even as she winced at the baseball pun.  

This kind of behavior?  Oliver had left it behind, she thought.  Ever since his best friend and teammate Tommy Merlyn had been killed in a car accident five years ago, Oliver had been different, according to other players and his coach, John Diggle.  So she didn’t understand what was going on with him–and she was going to get to the bottom of it.  Even if she had to use her Loud Voice.  

Finally she reached her destination and knocked on the door of the trainers’ room.  “Is Oliver Queen in there?”

No one answered, but Felicity could hear voices behind the door.  Lifting her fist, she pounded on the door.  “Open up or I’m coming in!”

She thought she heard a muffled “No!” but Felicity didn’t wait.  She opened the door and stepped inside, striding along with all the determination and confidence that had let her succeed twice in male-dominated fields: computer science and sports agent.

“What were you thinking?” she snapped as she stalked over towards Oliver, who was ensconced in an ice bath.  “Strip baseball?  With girls who barely look legal, putting aside the fact that they are way too young for you?  I thought you wanted to change your image, Oliver, not continue to feed this idiotic idea that you’re some spoiled rich kid who doesn’t give a damn!”

He wasn’t really looking at her.  He was hanging his head, acting like he was ignoring her, which stoked her ire.  “Look at me!” she demanded.  

That got a reaction.  His eyes met hers, fiery blue on fiery blue.  “You sure you want to do this, Felicity?”  

His voice was honey over gravel and she felt her insides twist.  But she shoved aside that flutter of lust and lifted her chin.  “You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts, acting like you could care less how I’m trying to help you.  So the mountain is coming to Mohammed.”  

“Okay, then.”  With that, Oliver hoisted himself up, revealing that yes, he _had_ been naked in that tub.  

Unconsciously, her eyes flicked down and marveled at how little a reaction the cold water had on _that_ part of Oliver’s anatomy, before she wrenched her eyes up to meet his.  

“You say I’ve been ignoring you.  How about how you’ve been ignoring me?  For a month, I’ve been trying to get you to talk about us.  And you’ve been ducking the conversation every time,” Oliver said, his hands on his hips, apparently not caring that he was standing naked in front of her, his body–scarred and rugged and completely, incredibly beautiful–on full display.  

“So I pulled a stupid kid move and did something to get your attention,” he continued.  “It was dumb and the last thing I needed, but, Felicity–I don’t give a damn about my contract anymore.  I almost don’t care about winning a World Series.  I just want to win you.”  

Felicity felt her heart pound.  Oliver had done this because of her?  Because she had been too scared to consider that she was falling for a baseball player–for a man–like Oliver?  

Licking her lips, she whispered, “I’m not a prize to be won.”  

Oliver clumsily got out of the tub to be closer to her.  In spite of the designer dress she was wearing, Felicity couldn’t move, couldn’t back away from his wet body.  

“It’s not like that, Felicity,” he said, reaching out and clutching her hands.  “I know you’re not a prize, not like that.  But … everything’s changed for me.  None of what I do on the field matters like it used to, none of it will matter, if you won’t give me a real chance.  If you won’t give us a real chance.”

She didn’t know what to say.  She kept searching his face, trying to find her answer in his eyes.  And she thought he sensed her dilemma, her struggle, because he moved even closer and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.  

“Please, Felicity.”  

That was all it took.  Oliver Queen, the man who never said please, said it to her. 

Going up on her toes, Felicity kissed him.  Kissed him slowly and sweetly, her hands coming up to cup his stubbled cheeks, feeling his arms come around her, pouring herself into a kiss that was different from all their other kisses.  From every other kiss she had ever had.  

Because this was the first time she kissed someone without thinking about anything else but him.

End.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Oliver frequents his fav sports bar because of a certain young lady. He tried to ask her out a few times but bailed at the last second. This time, Tommy plays wingman!

With a rag in his hand, Oliver rubbed down the bar, looking around.  The Home Plate was crowded for the opening day of the baseball season, but thanks to an unexpectedly nice day for April in Star City, a lot of their customers were taking advantage of the outdoor area.  That meant the bar itself wasn’t too full.  It should be easy for him to spot who he was looking for.  

Felicity.  A little blonde dynamo of brains and beauty, although the woman herself would disagree on the beauty party.  

“I’m a genius in a male-dominated field,” she had told him one night, after a guy had been laying it on pretty thick with her.  “Calling me ‘beautiful’ or ‘hot’ or anything like that?  I never believe it.  Especially not coming from a guy in a bar.”

It had been all Oliver could do to bite his tongue when she said that.  Because while he wasn’t a genius, he could tell that Felicity had no idea how appealing she was.  How her eyes lit up when she was interested, how her blonde ponytail made a man want to stroke her curls, how her pink-painted lips inspired very sexy thoughts.  

At least that was how it was for Oliver, since the first time Felicity had come into the Home Plate.  And the more he had gotten to know her over the last year, the more he had fallen for her.  

If it wasn’t for his boss’s rule about no dating the customers, Oliver would have asked Felicity out already.  But Oliver respected John Diggle too much to break his rules.  

But today was different, because it was his last day at the Home Plate.  He had taken the leap and enrolled in college full-time, after attending part-time the last year–a decision also inspired by Felicity.  

Since he wouldn’t be working at the bar any longer, he could ask Felicity out.  He just needed her to show up.  Which had to be any minute now–it was Opening Day and Felicity loved baseball even more than he did.

“Awful long face there, barkeep.”

Smiling a little, Oliver nodded to his best friend.  “Hey, Tommy.  Usual?”

“Yep,” Tommy Merlyn said, folding his arms on the spotless bartop.  “What’s got you looking so glum?  Could it be the absence of your favorite blonde?”

Oliver sighed a little as he filled a glass for Tommy.  “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, you are,” Tommy retorted.  “How many kids do you think the two of you are going to have, and have you figured out their names yet?”

Glaring at his friend as he slid the beer to him, Oliver said, “If you say any of that kind of thing when Felicity gets here–”

“Would I do that to you?” Tommy asked, picking up his beer and taking a healthy gulp.

“Yes.  You would.”

Tommy rolled his eyes.  “I’m going to be everything you could want in a wingman.”

“I don’t need a wingman,” Oliver said, knowing he sounded like a stubborn kid.  But damn it, he didn’t.  “I just need Felicity to show up.”

“Well, you’re in luck, then.”  Tommy nodded and Oliver spun around, looking towards the door of the bar.  The door that Felicity had just walked through.  

Oliver tried to smooth out his shirt and his hair without looking like he was as Felicity walked around the bar, smiling and waving to a few other regulars.  In her jeans and Mariners t-shirt, she looked more casual than he was used to seeing her.  And he liked it.  

“Felicity, hey,” he said after clearing his throat.  “I was getting worried.”  

_Worried, you idiot?  Why don’t you just ask her to marry you right now?_ a voice in his head said–a voice that sounded like Tommy at his most mocking.

“That you would miss the pre-game festivities,” he continued quickly.  “What can I get you?”

“You’re so sweet.  Thanks, Oliver,” she said, hoisting herself on a bar stool two down from Tommy’s.  “I’ll take a beer.  And a thing of popcorn all for myself?” she asked in a wheedling tone, smiling at him.  

Ducking his head and smiling, Oliver took a small basket from under the bar and filled it with popcorn from the large machine at one end of the bar.  He placed it in front of Felicity with a flourish, smiling at how she clapped her hands and bounced on her stool.  

“You know John’s got a standing rule that his favorite customer gets whatever she wants,” Oliver told her as he pulled her beer.  

“I don’t want to take anything for granted,” Felicity said, popping a few kernels into her mouth.  

“A great attitude,” Tommy said, butting into the conversation.  “Don’t live with regrets, that’s always been my motto.”

Oliver leaned back, his arms folded over his chest.  “Really, Tommy?”

Tommy shot him a look, then leaned over towards Felicity.  “So you were cutting it close, Felicity.  What gives?”

Her face screwed up in an expression of adorable disgust.  “A friend of mine kept me on the phone, trying to persuade me to let her set me up with this guy.” 

His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.  His arms fell to his side as Oliver considered that maybe he was too late.

“Oh, yeah?  You weren’t interested, though?”

Seriously, he was going to kill Tommy.

Felicity shook her head.  “No … I mean, he sounds like a great guy, he’s just … he’s not …”  

Tommy nodded sympathetically.  “He’s not Oliver, right?”  

Her cheeks went red and after a startled glance towards Oliver, Felicity looked down.  

“You know that even though he’s my best friend, I’ll throw him out if he’s bothering you, Felicity, right?” Oliver asked, glaring at Tommy.

“No, no, you don’t have to show off your muscles by throwing Tommy out,” Felicity said quickly.  She blushed deeper and picked up her beer.  Just before she sipped, she muttered, “And it’s not like he’s wrong.”

Oliver thought she hadn’t meant to be so loud.  He didn’t think he was meant to hear that.  But he had, and now that he heard it … he was trying to make sense of it.  Could Felicity–did she actually–would she actually go out with him if he asked?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy get up and move away, leaving Oliver alone with Felicity.  Giving him the opening he needed.  

Taking a deep breath, Oliver took a step closer to Felicity and rested his hands on the bar.  “So … you turned your friend down?”

She nodded, her eyes looking anywhere but him–her beer, the bar, the TV showing the sportscasters talking about the Mariners’ chances this year.  “Yeah … I just … I knew I wasn’t interested.”  

“So … if I asked you out …?” 

Her eyes snapped to his face, big and blue and round as saucers.  “What?” she whispered.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out for months, but you know John’s rule,” Oliver said, deciding to put all his cards on the table.  “But this is my last day here, since thanks to you, I’m now a full-time college student.  And the only good thing about leaving the Home Plate is I get to ask you out now.”  

Felicity blinked slowly, her lips parted as she stared at him.  Oliver leaned in a bit, a smile starting to grow on his face as his confidence rose.  “Felicity,” he said softly, “would you go out with me?”

Her head jerked, then she nodded eagerly.  “Yes.  Yes!”  

Oliver beamed at her, then looked around for John.  When he caught his boss’s attention, Oliver gave him the thumbs up and got a head nod in return.  Turning back to Felicity, he gave her a wink and pulled himself a beer, then walked around the bar with it.  

She was smiling, too, by the time he reached her.  “Hi,” he said, sliding into the stool next to hers.  “I’m Oliver.  How do you feel about the Mariners this year?”

“They’re gonna go all the way,” she said confidently, before holding her hand out to him.  “Hi.  I’m Felicity.” 

And while the Mariners didn’t go all the way–they lost in the wild card game–Oliver and Felicity did.  They went all the way.

End.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: First meeting, Oliver hits Felicity in the head with a baseball with a throw or popfly gone wrong

Shifting his feet, Oliver Queen–former catcher and now the new first baseman for the Washington Nationals–prepared for the next play.  It was the bottom of the seventh inning, the team was leading by four, and so far, he hadn’t made any errors during his first game at his new position.  

Which was his first mistake: thinking.  His second mistake was thinking about how he was doing.  And his third mistake was whipping a ball towards first instead of tossing it.  

Time went into slow motion as Oliver watched the progress of the ball.  It flew past the pitcher covering first, going into the stands and making contact with someone–a woman who fell back as the ball impacted with her temple.  

The next thing he knew, he was standing by the barrier, watching as paramedics rushed to the woman and began evaluating her.  Within a few moments, the woman woke up, blinking open a set of blue eyes that knocked Oliver’s socks off.  Even with how dazed she seemed, there was something about her that drew Oliver’s attention.  

“My glasses … my glasses …” she muttered, her hands fluttering from her face to the area around her, her forehead wrinkled with confusion.  

“Here, Felicity, I’ve got them, you’re okay,” said the man sitting next to her.  He was holding her hand tightly, looking worried.  Was that her boyfriend?  

“Oliver, Oliver, c’mon, we gotta get back to our positions,” his teammate Tommy Merlyn told him, tugging on Oliver’s arm.  

He wanted to resist, but Oliver knew he couldn’t.  He nodded and turned to head back to first base, his shoulders slumped.  

The guilt was crushing.  Especially considering that his guilt was mingling with attraction.  But how could he even think of being attracted to the woman he had beaned?  All he should be focusing on was finding a way to resolve his guilt.  

XXX

Felicity walked into her townhouse and sighed, stepping out of her heels.  It was her first day back to work after she had gotten hit by an errant baseball last week, but the headache she had been suffering ever since had recurred yet again, so she had come home after lunch.  

If only she had been paying more attention at the game, actually trying to enjoy it instead of fretting about what she was missing out on at work.  When the ball had come flying towards her, her head had been down and all her attention had been fixed on her tablet.  That was why she hadn’t been able to get out of the way.  

It sucked, dealing with the headaches and the constant calls from the baseball team asking if she was going to sue them.  Which was a dumb question, since she knew there was video of her getting hit–thanks to that creepy jerk at work, Ray Palmer–and it clearly showed she wasn’t aware of her surroundings.  So suing the team would just get her a bunch of lawyer bills.  No, thank you.  

Her cell phone rang, making her wince at the high-pitched noise going right to her headache.  She quickly answered it.  “Hello?”

A throat cleared, and then a very deep, masculine voice said, “Felicity Smoak?”

“Y-yes?”  

“Hi.  I’m–I’m Oliver Queen.  I play for the Nationals.  I … I wanted to apologize to you,” the voice said, making Felicity drop down onto her couch in shock.

Oliver Queen?  The longest-tenured National, the guy that everyone in Washington loved?   _He_ was calling to apologize to _her_?

“What?  Why?”  The questions erupted from her because she was too surprised to actually filter her thoughts.  

“Well … I’m responsible for you getting hit, so–so I wanted to reach out and tell you how sorry I am.  I shouldn’t have lost control like I did.”  

_This_ was the hotshot athlete who had the reputation of the bad boy of baseball?  This contrite-sounding man?

“Oh,” Felicity said weakly.  “Um, you really don’t have to feel so guilty.  I mean, I wasn’t paying attention to the game, and that’s how I got hit, so really, it’s just as much my fault–”

“No way.  It’s all my fault,” Oliver argued.  

Felicity frowned.  “No, you just made a simple mistake.  It’s my fault for not paying attention that I got hit.”

“But you wouldn’t have gotten hit if I hadn’t thrown the ball so hard.”

“Why are we arguing about who’s more at fault?” Felicity said, rubbing her forehead.  “I have a headache, so I’m not up for this.”  

“Oh.  I–I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have disturbed you.  I’m sorry.”  

God, he sounded like she had kicked his puppy _and_ his kitten, all the while cackling maniacally.  And normally, guys acting like this didn’t work on her.  But something about Oliver Queen’s voice made her think that he wasn’t what he appeared to be.

“No, wait, Oliver,” she said, leaning back on her couch.  “Look, let’s just say we’re both in the wrong, and on the count of three, we each say ‘I’m sorry’?”  

“That … that sounds like a good plan,” he said slowly.  There was something in his voice that made him sound like he was cheering up.  

“Great,” Felicity said, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach.  “One, two, three–I’m sorry.”

At the same time, Oliver said “I’m sorry,” making Felicity smile a little.  

“All better?” she asked.  

“Yes … mostly.  I was wondering–Felicity, could I keep calling you?”

Could concussion-induced headaches make you have auditory hallucinations?  That was the only explanation for why she had heard Oliver ask to keep calling her.

“What?  Why?”

“Is that the way you respond to every question?”  Yup, he was definitely smiling now–Felicity could hear it in his voice.  “I asked because … well, I’d like to know that you’re okay.  If that isn’t too creepy.” 

Creepy?  Oliver thought wanting to check up on her after he had caused her injury was creepy?  She should tell him about what creepy really was.  But … another time.  

“Um … yes, I guess.  Sure.  Yeah.  I’d like that.  As long as it doesn’t cut into your time too much.”  

Did she have to babble like a teenager whenever she talked on the phone?

“Yeah?” Oliver asked.  Before she could answer, he said, “Wait, you just said yes like four times.  So you must mean it.  I don’t want to keep you on the phone too long, since you said you had a headache.  If there’s anything I can help with, just–just let me know.  And I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“All right,” she said, feeling a bit overwhelmed.  And her temples were pounding, which would be her justification for anyone asking her why she had said yes.

XXX

Marriage Announcement: Smoak-Queen

In Las Vegas this past Sunday, Felicity Smoak of Las Vegas and Washington, D.C. and Oliver Queen of Washington, D.C. were married.  The bride is an IT manager for the federal government.  The groom is a professional baseball player.  They met when the groom accidentally hit the bride with a baseball during a game.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Olicity + kiss cam :)
> 
> (I have no idea if this is accurate, as I have never been to Fenway, so please forgive me if they’d never have a kiss cam there. [grin])

Felicity bopped her head, a big smile on her face as she sang along with the rest of the stadium singing “Sweet Caroline.”  It was a perfect summer day in Boston, the Sox were winning against the Yankees, and her fantasy team was winning big-time.  

As a computer geek, Felicity was predisposed to like baseball, with all the statistics and probability.  But she also liked baseball in its own right.  There was something about being outside in the bright-but-not-scorching sunlight, seeing oh-so-green grass instead of squinting from dust blowing in your eyes, enjoying the lazy rhythm of a game while you ate a hot dog and drank a beer.  

Everyone in the stadium seemed to feel the same way.  Everyone except the guy sitting next to her.  Was he some kind of robot?  He was sitting there, in a _suit_ , on a summer Saturday, without getting up to get food or even go to the bathroom.  

She had looked over at him several times during the game–since, sue her, he was pretty–but he had just kept looking straight ahead.  Like he didn’t even want to be here, which seemed like a sin to her. 

And she was finally fed up enough to say something, even though she wasn’t the type to get confrontational with a stranger who wasn’t doing anything technically wrong.

“So, what, are you a Yankee fan?”

The man turned his head and looked at her, blinking.  “What?”

“Are you a Yankee fan?  Is that why you look like you’re determined not to have a good time?” Felicity repeated.  “’Cause, y’know, they play twenty-one times a year.  There’s plenty of times the Yankees will win and the Sox will lose.  So ease up and enjoy yourself.”  

“Oh.  No, I’m not a Yankees fan,” he said, his voice all warm and shiver-inducing.  It went perfectly with his face, because he was even prettier in a face-forward view.  Strong jaw covered in stubble, full pouting lips, and eyes that were blue and deep and filled with sadness.  

Felicity waited for him to explain, but when he stayed silent, she sighed.  “Okay, then.  Stay all silent and mysterious,” she muttered, looking over at the scoreboard to see what was happening in the rest of the American League.

Only to blanch when she realized it was her face on the scoreboard.  Hers and Strong Silent Sob Story, with their faces outlined by a red heart and the words KISS CAM.

“Oh, crap!”

“What?” the man said, coming to life at the wrong time.  He must have looked at the scoreboard, too, because he drew in a breath.  “Well, that’s …”

“Presumptuous?  Offensive?  Intrusive?  Yup, all three!” Felicity yelped, wishing the camera operator would give up and move on to someone else.  Someone else who was actually a couple, and not two strangers sitting next to each other.  But the camera didn’t move and they stayed up on the scoreboard.  And now the stadium was realizing what was happening, and there was applause and wolf whistles and hoots the longer they went without kissing.  

With a groan, Felicity turned to the man.  “Look, let’s just do this and then we can go back to ignoring each other for the rest of the game.”  

He blinked, his stupid-long-pretty eyelashes fluttering, and that was all the time Felicity gave him before she took his face in her hands and kissed him.  

Although the joke was on her, really.  As soon as her lips made contact with his, Felicity felt something change inside her.  It was like something that had been dormant and hidden, deep down in some secret place inside her, bloomed into life.  

Also?  This guy could kiss.  He was into this–into kissing _her_ –and she didn’t want the kiss to stop.

Eventually, though, it had to, and Felicity pulled back to suck in a few gulps of air.  She wondered if she looked as dazed at the guy sitting next to her.  

“Okay–never kissed a guy whose name I didn’t know.  Or been caught on the kiss cam.  New experiences, yay,” she cheered weakly.

The guy blinked again and then licked his lips.  “Oliver.  My name is Oliver.”  

Oliver.  That was … a nice name.  

“Thank you.  And what’s your name?  Since I’ve never kissed a girl whose name I didn’t know on the kiss cam.”  

She had said his name was nice out loud?  Felicity wanted to slide down under the seats and vanish.  But that would mean not being around Oliver, so … 

“I’m Felicity,” she said, looking at him.  “Now will you tell me why you look like you’re not having a good time?”  

A slow, dazzling smile appeared on Oliver’s face, one that made her feel a bit breathless.  “Things are looking up.”

And when he leaned in to kiss her, Felicity definitely felt breathless.  

End.


End file.
